Pretending
by WildYennifer
Summary: "...it's not about trust. It's about mistakes. One mistake, to be more exact. The one I keep making over and over again." Post season 3. Elena has been a vampire for over a month. Even though everything has changed, she and Stefan are happy together...or are they? One day Elena can't pretend any more.


_**A/N:** Hey, guys. This developed from a spontaneous idea and had a long, long way to what you see now. It seems I just like this type of stories – writing a Stefan/Elena scene which is completely about Damon/Elena._

_I'd love to hear your thoughts._

_**Timeline: **season 4, over a month after Elena turned._

_**Special thanks**, really **a lot** of gratitude goes to **CreepingMuse**, who first persuaded me to write this, then edited the story **twice**, and generally helped and supported me in every possible way. Love you. ;)_

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Stefan laid on the bed in Elena's room, facing away from her. Both of them were awake, but they weren't talking. The silence wasn't tense, nor was it easy and peaceful. It was just cold. Stefan had the daunting feeling that they were like two strangers after a one night stand.

He was listening to Elena's breathing and heartbeat. He wanted to embrace her, but she needed personal space – these days, she always did – and he was happy to give her whatever she wanted. She said he could leave for the rest of the night if her attitude made him feel uncomfortable, but he stayed anyway.

She didn't seem to be the Elena he knew anymore. Stefan had believed he was ready to accept her new vampire self, whatever it was going to be. But he had a hard time getting used to this girl – no, woman – strong, moody, her face always sad, even when she laughed. When Stefan had just started dating Elena, a caring and forgiving human teenager, he could always tell what she felt, what she thought, she'd had nothing to hide – or so he believed. Now Elena seemed to have too many secrets; there were too many places in her mind and her heart that he couldn't reach.

Even though Stefan couldn't see her now, he was sure she was just lying quietly and staring at the ceiling, like she always did lately. Stefan wanted to know what was going through her mind, what thoughts were haunting her, but he wasn't certain he was ready to face the truth.

It probably had something to do with the fact that she never stayed in the boarding house at night any more. That house seemed to be the only place where Stefan knew Elena didn't belong to him.

He didn't take her there for romantic dinners. She didn't come there because she missed him. She certainly didn't sleep over. He tried to tell her a couple of times that the house would be free for the night, but she always shook her head and said no. After some time, he'd stopped inviting her.

And that was why they were together, but neither of them was happy.

Damon.

He had done everything possible for Stefan to get his happily ever after with Elena. He had wished them "all the best, blah blah blah." He had stopped flirting with her on every possible occasion. He had even meant to keep his side of the bargain and leave the town once he'd made sure Caroline was up to helping Elena through the most difficult period.

Elena hadn't let him leave. No, she hadn't begged him on her knees to stay. She hadn't tried to use tears or hysterics against him. She hadn't even tried to reason with him and say that nobody could help her now better than he could. She had simply looked at him for a long, meaningful while and said "Don't go. Please." That was all it took.

Then Elena started coming to the boarding house every day.

Stefan kept persuading himself that she only came there because she needed Damon's help to learn to control her blood lust – nothing more. He knew he had no right to be bitter about her trusting Damon more on the blood issue, but it hurt anyway. What hurt the most was her choice of words. "I need him for this, Stefan," she'd said, and all he could do was nod in defeat. Yes, Damon had perfected his self-control over decades, while Stefan had been too busy escaping his nature and going crazy once this nature had caught up with him.

Damon was always on the couch when they came for a visit, a glass of blood or whiskey in his hand. He did his best to seem careless and casual, but failed miserably every time. Even to Stefan it was obvious how much Damon anticipated these moments when he got to see Elena, even if it was under the younger Salvatore's supervision. It was obvious that Elena waited for these meetings with equal anxiety, and that was the worst part.

Or maybe the worst part was that Stefan already knew their little ritual in detail.

Damon would look at Elena with a slight grin on his lips, and she would smile in return, that being her most genuine smile in the whole day. He would drink whatever he had in his glass, refill it with blood from the blood bag he'd already prepared and offer it to Elena. She would take it, hands trembling a little, wait for Damon's approving nod and drink the dark liquid, slowly, taking her time to practice her self-control.

Nobody knew how hard it was for Stefan to watch Elena's face become twisted and wild. She was his Beatrice; she was supposed to be pure, angelic, perfect, and Stefan wanted to turn around and run away, to do anything so he would never have to see what human blood does to Elena. But at such moments, Damon was there, right next to her, never averting his gaze, not even blinking, like it was the most beautiful sight in the world – and Stefan stayed.

Elena would finish her vital drink, her face changing back to the one he knew and loved. Damon sometimes wiped a few drops of blood from her face, and Stefan wanted to leave the room, again. He had no idea why these moments seemed more intimate than anything he did with Elena.

A week before, she had managed to drink blood retaining the human face for the first time. Stefan had watched her, happy, thinking that if Elena had learned to control her blood lust, she would probably return soon. _His_ Elena would be back. And then she had put the glass on the table, smiling, and thrown her arms around Damon, whispering "I did it."

"You did it," he had confirmed, holding her tightly.

Like Stefan hadn't been there at all. Like it had nothing to do with him.

Stefan heard Elena shift, the sheets whispering around her. "You're still awake?" he asked, and heard her exhausted sigh.

"Can't sleep."

It wasn't news, but Stefan decided to try his luck. Maybe this time he could get her to give him some answer – any answer.

"Why?"

Elena bolted upright, and he turned to look at her. She looked desperate, staring into space, eyes full of unshed tears.

"Hey." He reached out to touch her, but at the last moment dropped his hand, like he had no right to do it. "What's wrong?"

"Don't you see?" she snapped immediately, turning away. "Everything's wrong. It's not how everything was supposed to be." She shook her head and hid her face in her hands.

"Elena, whatever it is, tell me. We can fix it. Trust me, we can. We've overcome so much already. You know you can trust me with anything. You do know that, right?"

"I know Stefan, but it's not about trust. It's about mistakes. One mistake, to be more exact. The one I keep making over and over again."

"What are you talking about?" he insisted, and she let out another sigh.

"I'm hurting people, Stefan. I hurt everyone I know. I did it in the past, more that I can remember, and I keep doing it now. Whenever I try to do the right thing, it ends up all wrong. This, Stefan, is what I can't fix. Hurting people I care about, no matter what I decide."

"There's nothing to fix. I'm sure nobody blames you. After all, you never blame anyone."

"But that's the problem!" she exclaimed, and shook away Stefan's hand from her shoulder when he tried to soothe her with his touch. "It shouldn't be like this. You shouldn't have forgiven me for Damon. Damon shouldn't forgive me for everything I've been doing to him, either."

"You shouldn't have forgiven me, either – for giving up on you, for threatening to kill you, for not being there when you needed me," Stefan added quietly, and Elena let out another sigh.

"Maybe you're right. But the point is that how we treat each other, what I do to both of you, is cruel. And yet, here we are, pretending to be a cute happy little family, while for real we are three miserable, lonely people!"

Stefan was taken aback. It wasn't like Elena's words didn't reflect his own thoughts – they were all only trying to _look_ happy. He just was surprised she had spoken out.

"But I love you," he resorted to the last argument he had.

"You don't."

What?

"You don't love _me_, Stefan. You love that girl who died weeks ago. I'm not that girl, can't be her, no matter how much you want her back."

Elena was wrong, so wrong. She had changed, undoubtedly. She had become stronger, physically and emotionally. She rarely smiled, rarely laughed. One day she was passive and agreed to everything he suggested, and the next day she was irritable, arguing with him on every word he said. She'd developed a habit of staring into space most of the time. She did it even at the most passionate moments – Stefan had noticed she never looked him in the eye when they made love. But he was sure Elena just needed time, a little more time, and she'd return. He only needed to convince her that everything would be all right.

"It's not like that," he shook his head, taking her hands in his. "You're still Elena. No matter how much has changed, I know that deep down you're the same."

"You want to know what I have deep down? Hunger and lust, Stefan, that's what. Lust for blood. Lust for hunting. Even lust for Damon."

Elena's words were so cruel that Stefan almost believed she intended to hurt him, cut him as deeply as possible. He let her. If that was what it took to get her to be honest with him, he was willing to take the pain.

"That has nothing to do with your supposedly new personality." Stefan said, shaking his head. "It's always been there. I was always wary, afraid that one day Damon would come and take you away from me. Well, at least I was right about that."

"He didn't-"

"You love him," Stefan interrupted her, careful not to sound accusing. He merely stated the fact.

"I'm sorry." Elena looked at him apologetically, as if she hadn't deliberately tried to cause him pain a few moments before. "I'm sorry that I've been…misleading you. I shouldn't have. That was unfair, unfair to all three of us. But for one thing I'm not sorry. You're right. I…love Damon."

The last sentence she said so slowly that it looked like she had a hard time believing it. Stefan couldn't blame her. She probably needed some time to get used to the idea. He was sure he needed a lot more time.

"Why today?" he asked as he watched Elena wiping tears off her eyelashes. "What happened?"

She looked away, embarrassed.

"When you went hunting, I went to the boarding house for blood," she started, and Stefan nodded. Elena had decided to keep what Damon called "a healthy diet", and he had no choice but to respect her decision. Like always. "It went well, I mean, still no fangs… It was almost easy. The hard part was standing there with Damon and having to remind myself every moment that I'd promised to let him go. And when it was time to leave…it hurt so much I thought I wouldn't stand it."

It was not even as painful as Stefan had imagined. He had dreaded this moment so much that now that it came, it wasn't even as awful as in his imagination.

"I'm sorry," said Elena again. "You know how hard I tried to revive the love you and I had back in our day. But it's impossible. For once, to make everyone happy, I have to do exactly what I want."

"To be with Damon," Stefan prompted.

Elena tilted her head, her gaze growing even more apologetic.

"You are such a great man, Stefan," she said, taking his hands in hers. "You will be happy without me. You deserve someone who will not only see, but also value the good in you, who will share your every thought and every moment. I can't be this person anymore, and pretending won't do anyone any good. You deserve someone better than me. Someone who doesn't…dream about your brother every night."

He nodded without meaning to.

"I'll always care about you, you know that, right? But I'm not in love with you. And you'll soon understand that you're not in love with me, either. Not with the person I've become."

"I know," Stefan answered. As much as he hated to admit it, she was right. That glass wall that had seemed to exist between them lately wasn't just her fault. In a way, they both longed to be with someone else. But Elena loved a real person, while Stefan was still in love with the mental image he created a year before.

He got out of the bed, put on his shirt and was about to walk out of the door when Elena asked in a desperate voice, "Will you ever forgive me for _this_?"

Stefan didn't need an explanation to understand what she meant by "this." She was apologizing for deceiving him without meaning to, for hurting both him and his brother in her attempts to do the right thing…and maybe even for not being the person he wanted her to be.

"Of course." He hesitated for a moment and added, "I hope you'll make him happy."

She nodded. "I hope someone will make you happy, too."

Stefan tried to smile, but it was weak and unnatural. He wasn't going to get used to the idea of losing Elena forever soon. But she was right. He had lost her long before that night.

He left the room without looking over his shoulder a single time.

Stefan sincerely wished Elena and Damon all the best. What about him? He would leave Mystic Falls and get a fresh start as far away from that town as possible. He would try his best to find his place in the world. Never mind love; he had other things on his mind for now. And when the moment was finally right, the idea of Damon and Elena together would only bring a smile to his face.

After all, they all deserved to be happy.

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_**A/N:** I'll be especially happy if you leave me a review. ;) Hope you enjoyed the story and thanks for reading._


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